"""At 2:27 a.m., my dad called from the police station. “Honey… she beat me with a baseball bat. Now she’s telling police I attacked her because I’m mentally ill.” I arrived to find my sister-in-law crying and my brother standing silently beside her. I showed the officer my federal agent badge, and his face went white. Then my dad’s sleeve slipped up—and suddenly, I understood this was far more than a family dispute. / Chapter 7 / 10

Chapter 7 - The Audit of a ParasiteBy Wednesday evening, the federal forensic accounting team had finished tearing through Vance Horizon Holdings LLC, David’s commercial development accounts, and every hidden digital ledger associated with their lavish lifestyle.

The results were even more staggering—and criminal—than I had initially anticipated.

Sitting at the large mahogany dining table in my secure apartment, Agent Marcus Vance slid a thick, bound financial audit report across to me while my father sat quietly nearby, sipping a fresh cup of tea.

“Well, Elena,” Marcus said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Your hunch was spot-on. This wasn't just a spontaneous family feud over an inheritance. It was a multi-year, highly organized financial parasite operation.”

“Break it down for me,” I said, resting my chin on my hands.

“David’s commercial strip mall project didn't just tank—it failed three years ago due to massive embezzlement on his part,” Marcus explained, flipping open the audit report to a glowing red pie chart. “To cover his tracks, he started siphoning funds from your father’s retirement accounts using forged digital signatures and online banking portals. When your father caught wind of it and threatened to report the missing funds to a CPA, David and Chloe escalated their tactics.”

My father lowered his teacup, his eyes darkening. “They told me I was losing my mind. They brought in a shady doctor friend from Bloomington who wrote a fake neurological assessment claiming I had early-onset dementia.”

“Exactly,” Marcus nodded. “They were building a paper trail to have him declared legally incompetent so they could quietly institutionalize him, auction off all his real estate holdings, and pocket the remaining two point four million dollars before anyone in the family noticed.”

I stared at the audit numbers, feeling a cold fury settle deep in my chest. Two point four million dollars. They were willing to lock away, beat, and psychologically torture a seventy-two-year-old man who had changed their diapers and paid for their weddings, all for a quick cash payout to save David’s failing ego.

“What happens to their assets now, Marcus?” I asked quietly.

“Every single corporate account, luxury vehicle, investment portfolio, and the house on Pine Valley Lane has been seized under federal civil asset forfeiture laws,” Marcus replied firmly. “David and Chloe are facing up to twenty-five years in federal prison on the combined wire fraud and elder abuse indictments. Because it crossed state lines into Delaware shell companies, the feds have jurisdiction, and there’s no local police union or corrupt judge in Marion County that can bail them out.”

My father reached across the table, placing his frail, warm hand over mine. The bruises on his forearm were still dark, but for the first time in two years, the haunted, terrified look in his eyes was completely gone.